I have no idea about the actual identity of this species — and I think these are buds rather than the mature plant — but tell me you don’t think the name is appropriate. Look at the one third from the right on the stalk, it even has an eye in the right place.
St Helena has been subjected to many invasive species since humanity first arrived here five centuries ago, some deliberately planted or otherwise introduced, some accidentally so. In the background, New Zealand flax (Phormium tenax), which a while back someone decided would be a good cash crop, it being the basis of things like rope and mailbags. The cash for it stopped flowing fifty years ago, but that doesn’t mean it all decided to stop growing. In the foreground, well, you know what bird that is (Gallus gallus domesticus, according to the biologists): much the same thing happened, but as a chicken is for life and not just for Sunday dinner, when there stopped being much economic point in people looking after them, out into the environment they went. There are now large numbers of feral chickens on the island.
Another bird, yes, but I’ve been trying to get a decent shot of a red fody, a.k.a. common fody (Foudia madagascariensis) since my first visit here. He — and this is definitely a male — really is that red: I’ve not tweaked the colour settings at all on this one. As the species’ Latin name suggests, they are originally from Madagascar, but have made it over to the other side of Africa by one means or another down the centuries.
Mynah birds are everywhere on St Helena, and considered something of a pest by the locals, though I have to say I quite like them, they are handsome creatures I think. Two of them were the subject of the photo taken on my first full day here, in quarantine, back in November 2021 and it’s time one made a reappearance. This is the 60th shot taken on the island, and considered as a country, it thus draws level with Russia on the stats, ready to overtake it tomorrow and become the 5th most depicted one on here (after England, Australia, Scotland and Norway). And I doubt I’ll be going back to Russia any time soon — but there is more to be seen of St Helena yet.
I cannot think of any comment other than: How cute. And all with a burst of golden sunlight in the background, and there really hasn’t been a great deal of that in December (though in this country, there never is).
Really, not an exciting Christmas Day, but are they ever, these days? A pleasant one though, and mild, so Clare and Joe were dragged out on the usual pre-consumption walk, where was captured this piece of hogweed in front of the pine (Christmas) trees, simply because I like the shape it makes. A natural candelabrum, maybe.
Anyway — a happy Christmas to you all, I hope you enjoyed the day, however it was spent.
No Christmas break in sight for the herons, who still have to fish, and thereby eat. This one, rightfully, looks with some disdain at the litter that has been chucked in the Hebden Water next to its usual spot at the weir. Bloody humans, leaving their crap all over the place. And it’ll be there for weeks, I bet.
Doves have been a religious symbol for thousands of years: Christianity just adopted a tradition that had begun in Mesopotamia (according to Wikipedia, which of course is right about everything). If you ask me, though, this one has the evil eye; zoom in a bit and you’ll see what I mean.
These various beetroot all came out of the ground within a couple of feet of each other. I’m sure they were all from the same pack of seeds…. I like the diversity of colour, also that this shot does imply they had all been in the ground ten minutes before it was taken: which was, more or less, the case. I think some pickling is in order.
I assume these are sycamore seeds, and so I think they’ve missed their chance to spiral down through the air and find fertile ground on which to start producing more sycamores. I like this shot because of the vivid green contrasting with the dead brown, but posting this the following morning I already know that green is not featuring any longer in the local palette (because it’s snowed, basically). Winter is here.
Being 42 